


there is no loneliness more lonely than distrust

by technicallynotalizard



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: And Julian is a stupid genius, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Garak is secretly a giant romantic, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Elim Garak, Post-Episode: s05e14 In Purgatory's Shadow, Pre-Episode s05e16 Dr. Bashir I Presume, also they're both trans in this, but they're t4t, it's not a plot point, this is my first fic in almost 10 years so I don't know how to tag sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29573316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicallynotalizard/pseuds/technicallynotalizard
Summary: Exposed. Naked. Garak’s soul had been bared to Julian Bashir, and he felt more vulnerable than he could ever remember feeling. The doctor now knew more about him than any other living person. Except perhaps Mila, but Garak often wondered whether the man he had become in his exile would even be recognizable to her. He was now the kind of man who trusted, who was trusted, but only by one man. One Star Fleet doctor.~~~After returning from imprisonment in the gamma quadrant, Garak pushes everyone, including Bashir, away. Bashir doesn't let him and once some of the many lies told between them are cleared away, they find themselves closer than ever before. Somehow, this doesn't scare Garak in the slightest.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	there is no loneliness more lonely than distrust

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on AO3 and my first fic in general in at least 8 years. Sorry if the dialogue is choppy, I'm out of practice. The title was inspired by a quote from George Eliot. Just a heads up, whenever I write Garak and Bashir, they are both trans unless specifically stated otherwise. I don't make the rules I just follow them.  
> Enjoy!

Exposed. Naked. Garak’s soul had been bared to Julian Bashir, and he felt more vulnerable than he could ever remember feeling. The doctor now knew more about him than any other living person. Except perhaps Mila, but Garak often wondered whether the man he had become in his exile would even be recognizable to her. He was now the kind of man who trusted, who was trusted, but only by one man. One Star Fleet doctor.

~

It had been an act of desperation, letting Bashir witness Enabran Tain’s final moments. It was Garak’s attempt at repenting for not noticing a changeling imposter for over a month. But it was also a plea not to be left alone. To never be left alone by Dr. Bashir. But somehow, the brilliant doctor didn’t grasp the meaning behind the act. He was far too Human to understand the significance of letting an outsider witness the final moments of a dying Cardassian.

A weaker man would have been heartbroken by the implied rejection in the dear doctor’s response to bearing witness to the death of Garak’s father. And Garak was hurt, true, but it was merely another reminder that sentiment truly was the greatest weakness of all. Who could blame him, then, for pulling away once the ragged group made it back to Deep Space 9?

How many ways had Garak made his feelings clear? How many times had he ignored both common sense and his instincts for Dr. Bashir? How many times had he opened himself to the man, only to be kept at a distance? Too many, too may, too many.

A week and a half passed before his efforts to avoid Bashir failed. He had known it was a matter of time, the dear doctor was nothing if not persistent, but he had hoped for a chance to compose himself more thoroughly before faced with the man.

It was a slow day in the shop, and as the time to close approached, Garak began tidying the racks of clothing. It was incredible how even the handful of customers that passed through the doors managed to cause such untidiness. When he heard a chime indicate that someone had come in, he didn’t immediately turn around, instead calling, “One moment,” As he folded a tunic.

“Garak, it’s me,” Dr. Bashir’s voice was firm, the kind of resolution laced in it that Garak had only heard a few times. So, the doctor was here for a confrontation.

“Ah, my dear Dr. Bashir,” Garak plastered on his customer service smile and a syrupy toned voice, “What can I help you with? Do you need your new uniform altered? I must say, I like these uniforms even less than the previous ones, if possible.”

“No,” Bashir folded his arms, foot tapping. Garak couldn’t tell whether it was from irritation or anxiety. His skills really were slipping, “I’d like to talk. You’ve been _avoiding_ me.” The last sentence was spoken pointedly, carrying a trace of hurt.

“ _Avoiding_ you?” Garak asked, finally looking up from the rack he had been straightening, “Of course not. Since our return from the internment camp, business has been thriving. Why, I’ve hardly had a spare moment in a week!”

It was clear almost immediately that Garak’s lie did nothing to convince Bashir, whose expression had gone from anxious to cross. “Don’t insult me further by lying to me. We’ve both been through something exceptionally traumatic and I had hoped we could process it together, after…” But his voice trailed off and his confidence flickered.

“After?” Garak asked, arching his ocular ridge. Was Bashir finally going to acknowledge the secrets Garak had revealed to him?

“When your fa- When Tain was dying. You let me stay. Why?” Dr. Bashir was now wringing his hands together, anxiety clearly overtaking his irritation.

Garak’s smile faltered, and was, just for a moment, replaced by a genuine expression of grief, before he rearranged his facial features into another smile, one holding more warmth. “I-“ Then he thought better of speaking so truthfully where anyone could hear them.

Garak quickly closed the doors to the shop, and turned off the sign indicating it was open. Once he felt assured of their privacy, he approached Bashir, “Would it surprise you if I said I didn’t want to witness his death alone?”

“If you were Human, no,” The doctor quipped, “But you’re not. And I know what _Shri-tal_ means to Cardassians. So, why did you let me stay?”

“I told you, doctor, I didn’t want to do it alone.” Garak swallowed. Apparently, he would have to spell it out for Bashir. A pity, he was usually so quick to piece these things together. “I wanted _you_ beside _me_ , to witness my father’s death.” There. He couldn’t be any clearer without actually declaring his undying love for the man.

Garak expected Bashir to look stunned, or for the confession to go completely over his head yet again. The doctor had read enough Cardassian literature to put the pieces together fairly quickly but he could be so utterly thick about interpersonal interaction. He didn’t expect the wide grin and relaxed posture that washed over Dr. Bashir almost immediately.

“I had hoped you would say that. I-“ Bashir paused, and despite his clear happiness, the anxiety returned again to his features. “I know you, Garak. As much as you like to pretend no one does, I know you. I know you’ll take it as pity if I confess my feelings for you, or try to kiss you. Which I would very much like to do, by the way. This is the only thing I can think of to reciprocate such a gesture.” Now the doctor looked truly terrified. “Look up Adigeon Prime. Specifically, patient records in 2348. You’ll need to employ some of your not at all spy related computer skills to get to the flies that will interest you, but I…” He swallowed and blinked.

There were tears in Bashir’s eyes, Garak realized. What could be so upsetting to the doctor about the cryptic instructions he had just given him? “But what, my dear?” Garak asked, swallowing as he failed to add the doctor to the end of the endearment.

“I think you’ll understand when you see it.” Bashir took in a steadying breath, then turned around swiftly and left the shop.

~

It was well past the simulated midnight on the station when Garak finished going through the records Dr. Bashir had directed him to. The word shocked wasn’t nearly enough to express what he was feeling right now.

How wrong he had been. He thought Bashir hadn’t understood, perhaps couldn’t understand, what he had done by allowing the man to witness Enabran Tain’s, _his father’s_ , final moments. But clearly he had. And he also clearly understood that such a grand gesture, such a declaration of love and trust, could only be met in equal. So Bashir had done just that, met his declaration in equal.

Garak now had the power to destroy the doctor, to ruin his career, his life, his future. The fact that he had been trusted with such a thing baffled him. Here was a man who spent most of his life destroying people, a man who manipulated and lied and tortured and murdered like it was nothing, and Julian Bashir had trusted him with his deepest vulnerability. Was this what love was meant to feel like?

Though Garak wasn’t sure what to make of his own emotions, there was no question in his mind about what to do next. The files on Bashir’s augmentation had been laughably easy to access. Any halfwit bent on ruining the dear doctor could have found them. So Garak went to work. He buried every trace of the records relating to the Bashir family’s trip to Adigeon Prime, any and all documentation that could indicate Dr. Bashir’s augmented status. No one less skilled than Garak himself could now find any trace of it, and perhaps it was pride, but Garak doubted there were many people more skilled than he was at this sort of obfuscation.

By the time he was finished, it was only a few hours before he was supposed to open his shop. But Garak hardly felt tired. If anything, he was exhilarated and there was only one thing he could think of doing right then. He had to see Dr. Bashir.

The halls in the habitat ring were still dimmed to indicate the early hour as Garak walked purposefully towards the doctor’s quarters. Perhaps it was rude to wake him, but Garak simply had to speak with him. He easily bypassed the security panel at the door and, to his surprise, found the dear doctor already awake. Or perhaps, judging by the state of him, he hadn’t gone to sleep at all.

Bashir sat at the sofa, with dark circles under his eyes, and a mug of tarkalean tea in his hands. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and his knees were huddled to his chest, “Garak,” He muttered dryly, without looking up from the spot on the floor he stared at, “I take it you found the files.”

“I did.” Garak answered simply, unsure how to react to the distressed doctor.

“And?” Bashir shifted now, setting the mug on the table and turning to look at Garak, both fear and hope in his eyes.

“And I buried them,” Garak stated simply, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Nobody will ever find a single trace of what happened to you at Adigeon Prime.”

“You..?” Hope began overtaking fear, “That’s not why I told you.”

“No, no, you told me because you understand.” Garak approached the sofa and delicately sat on it, “You told me because you knew I made myself vulnerable to you, and you wanted me to know that the feelings that motivated my exposure were mutual. Yes?” He tilted his head to the side, waiting for Bashir to confirm his conclusion.

“Yes. You trusted me, so I trusted you.” Bashir nodded, gaze locking on to Garak’s eyes.

“My dear doctor,” Garak inched closer, reaching out to touch Bashir’s arm, “What I did, what we both did, to a Cardassian that is much more than a gesture of trust. To willingly make oneself weak by revealing such a thing-“

Bashir cut him off, “I know. I have been paying attention to all the Cardassian literature you’ve had me read over the years. It’s what Iloja of Prim was talking about in _The Scarlet Blade_.” He grabbed the hand on his arm with his own, and brought it up to his lips, carefully placing a kiss on Garak’s knuckle. “I love you, Garak. You don’t have to say it back, you already did, in your own way.”

Garak stared at their intertwined hands, then freed his so that he could gently caress Bashir’s face, barely managing to keep it from shaking, “Call me Elim," Was all he could manage to say.

“Elim,” The doctor whispered his name reverently, “Call me Julian, then.”

Garak couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he ran his thumb along Julian’s jawline, “ _Julian_ ,” The name was spoken with equal reverence, “My dear, may I kiss you?”

Julian answered by surging forward, wrapping his arms around Garak’s shoulders as he did so, and catching his lips with his own. The kiss was slow and tender, and thoroughly lacking in the uncertainty Garak expected to feel from the doctor.

Bashir’s hands crept up to tangle in Garak’s hair as he deepened the kiss, moving with a pace that could have been described as lazy if every movement didn’t feel so intentional. When Julian finally pulled away, Garak found himself breathless. “Julian,” He whispered again, for no other reason than to say the dear man’s name.

“Elim,” Julian moved his hands from Garak’s hair and traced his ridged jawline. His eyes found Garak’s and the Cardassian was surprised to see tears sparkling in them.

“Is something wrong, my dear?” Garak asked, pulling Bashir close against his chest.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just tired and emotional and-“ Julian swallowed, “I was so sure you would be furious with me for lying to you.”

Garak couldn’t help but chuckle at that, “Julian, my dear, after all the lies I’ve told you, you really think the lie you told everyone to protect yourself would hurt me at all? That would be awfully hypocritical. If anything, I’m impressed. I never suspected a thing.”

Julian blinked rapidly, attempting to banish the tears that were bound to start falling at any moment. “And now that you know…” He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, “It doesn’t change the way you see me?”

“Not in the way you might think,” Garak explained the next part quickly, realizing he might have given Dr. Bashir the wrong idea by starting with that statement, “On Cardassia, genetic enhancements are not stigmatized the way they are in the Federation. Very few Cardassians are enhanced, true, but that has more to do with our value placed on bloodlines than a bizarre and irrational belief that augments are inherently evil.” He paused and began rubbing Julian’s back in an attempt to soothe him, “I realize now that I consistently underestimated you, and that you simply had to be dumbing down your analysis of a few of the books we read. I will expect much better critical thinking from you in future literary discussions.”

Bashir blinked slowly, silent for a few moments. Then he began to laugh, body shaking. After a few moments, his laughter began to sound slightly manic, after a minute, Garak realized there were tears rolling down his cheeks. After a few more moments, Garak couldn’t tell whether Julian was still laughing, or had begun to cry.

“My dear?” He asked, carding his fingers through Julian’s hair, “Are you-?” He shook his head and sat upright, creating a bit of distance between them so that he could see the doctor’s face. “Are you quite alright?”

“Am I-“ Bashir wheezed, trying to gather himself, “Am I alright? Garak, I-“ He let out a noise that was somewhere between a giggle and a sob, “Of course I’m not alright. Where am I supposed to start with all the ways I’m not alright?” He took in a deep, long breath, and seemed a little calmer, though he was still awfully teary, “I was kidnapped by the Dominion and spent over a month in an internment camp, a good chunk of that time in solitary confinement. Meanwhile, a changeling imposter took my place on the station, and not only did my friends not notice, but they liked it better than me. Then-“ He hiccupped, “Then you came, but not to rescue me. You came for him, for Tain. And- and,” Another strange sound, “And he died and we’re here and I just told you something I’ve never told anyone else, and all you have to say is that my opinions on literature had to be fake, because I’m too smart to be so stupid. Well Garak, I have news for you,” He looked Garak in the eyes and wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, “I may be smarter than any Human has any right being, but I am also very stupid.”

Unsure how to process the doctor’s rambling explanation of his distress, Garak took advantage of his newfound permission to be close to him. He grabbed Bashir’s hand while it was still wiping the tear tracks from his face, and held it tightly, lacing their fingers together, “You’re exhausted, Julian. When are you on duty next?”

“I-“ Julian seemed surprised by the question. “I have the evening shift today. I need to report for duty at 1600 hours.”

“Then,” Garak said as he swiftly stood, managing not to let go of Bashir’s hand, “It is time for you to sleep. Up you get,” He tugged on the doctor’s arm gently.

“But we have so much to talk about. You probably have a thousand questions about my- my enhancements. And we haven’t even discussed what this means for-“

Garak cut him off. “Get up. We can handle all of that later.” He tugged again and Julian stood slowly, “For now, you need to rest. We can have lunch tomorrow and talk about whatever it is you feel needs to be said then.”

Garak dragged Bashir to his bed and let go of his hand so that he could push at his shoulders, gently forcing him onto the bed. He looked down at Julian and couldn’t help a fond smile. The doctor responded by shooting him a glare that had no real malice in it, then laying down on the bed. As he reached for his blankets, his scowl faded into a smile, “Thank you, Garak.”

“I said to call me Elim, my dear,” Garak reminded him gently, smoothing the blankets that were bunched up around the doctor’s lanky form.

“Elim, then. Thank you.” His voice was muffled by his pillow.

“Anything for you,” A pause as Garak turned away and headed for the door, “ _Julian_.”


End file.
